Anniversaries
by r0cky0urs0ul
Summary: How they feel on the same day...every year. Please read and review! I'm curious to know what everyone thinks!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all! Welcome to 'Anniversaries', my first Hunger Games fiction piece. I am really a lot nervous about the reception this will have…eek! Peeta and Katniss lover here…but I've really found myself trying to get into pre-Epilogue Katniss' head, thus the birth of this story (though we will explore Peeta's mind as well!). Each chapter will be the same day of the year for several years. I'm excited, scared, and anxious about people reading this! But hopefully it sparks some interest. While writing this first chapter I was listening to Solitude Lyrics - Black Sabbath on repeat. I've not had anyone read this yet so all mistakes are my own (feel free to point them, albeit gently). Sadly, I do not own Hunger Games…which kind of sucks because I love it!**

_Solitude  
My name it means nothing  
my fortune is less  
My future is shrouded in dark wilderness  
Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on  
Everything I possessed - Now they are gone_

When the first anniversary of her death is thrust upon her she is absolutely destroyed by the feeling of her heart breaking apart in her chest all over again. The burn inside of her is so extreme that every piece of her feels dead, like her...and every part of her wishes it was actually true. So quickly her breaking point had been reached and slowly every bit of resolve she had managed to build up in the previous 365 days shattered somewhere deep inside of her, in a place she hadn't even known existed prior to that moment…and she knew she would never be whole again. There was no possible way she could be; after all that had happened within the span of those brief terrifying moments she…she didn't want to think about what had happened, but she couldn't help it. It consumed her, defined her…ruined her.

She felt his comforting, warm, and unfailing hand fall to her shoulder but she shrugged it away, she wasn't moving, she just wanted to lie there and die. How could they expect her to go on without the one person she'd lived for? After their father had died…her reason for living had become her little sister. And now her little sister was gone…and she wanted to be gone, too. She didn't know how to exist without her…and she didn't even want to try. Closing her eyes, she began to hum softly. The tune was familiar, her song, and for a brief moment in time it proved successful in its ability to drown out the loud silence that surrounded her…surrounded her memories around them.

There _was_ still a 'them'. She didn't care what anybody else said, there would always be a 'them'. Four billion years could go by and she would still referrer to herself as one-half of a 'them'. But…nobody would ever know the other half again. Nobody who hadn't known it before would know it now. She couldn't even fathom that. Nobody would ever know how blessed she had been to have that blond haired girl in her life, how knowing she couldn't fail her had kept her going when all she'd wanted was to die like their Father had, it was impossible for them to know that now. Bringing her hand to her face she wiped away the tears that were stinging her eyes, finally allowing him to pull her back against him, letting his embrace tether her to reality. There were a million moments, it seemed, that made up one day and it had only taken one fraction of one moment to change her life. The remainder of her existence would be drastically different than even she had ever imagined it would be because of one third of one half of a moment. It just didn't seem fair. One ever so brief moment in time had turned her world upside down.

"Katniss…"

Shaking her head back and forth vigorously she brought her hand to her ear in an attempt to block out the sound of his voice.

"No."

Anything but his voice would allow her to remain in that bed, until she died too. His voice had always been, would always be, the voice that crushed the stubborn strength she had that told her to do what she knew she shouldn't. She couldn't stand him convincing her to get up, she wanted to stay down. She needed to stay down! Her entire body trembled as he pulled her hand down, his own hand still wrapped gently around her wrist. It was only then that the sobs racked her body and shook her soul as well as the bed they lay in.

"I know," his soft voice began as he stroked her head.

"No!" she cried. "No!"

Reality had finally dealt her a cruel blow making birth, life and death harsh unpleasant truths in a nanosecond. Harsh screams escaped through her mouth, her stomach turning in such a way that she almost vomited and her hands fisting so tightly that she couldn't feel anything but her fingernails piercing into her palms. The pain consuming her was so horrific she couldn't even breathe…it hurt to try.

"Shhh," he attempted to soothe her as he pulled himself up into a sitting position before taking her in his arms again, cradling her as he rocked back and forth gently, but his supportive hold only proved to make her cry more. Wrapping her arms around him she buried her face into his neck and held on, her back heaving with every fresh eruption of sobs as they escaped from the very depth's of her soul.

"No!"

Her entire body trembled violently as she lifted her head and placed her chin on his shoulder. She felt his hand come to rest on the back of her head and as he whispered his genuine apologies into her ear she slowly found her way back to being able to breathe again.

"I…she…" she sniffled between gasps. "I…"

"I know," he agreed gently.

"I don't know…" she shook her head back and forth and blinked through the blur of her tears before continuing. "What do I do now?"

His sad blue eyes considered her for a moment as he tried to come up with the right thing to say. How do you find an answer when there isn't one? Nothing could undo what had been done. Nothing could fill the void that her death had left in its wake. Slowly, since his return, they'd started to heal together…but this was a moment he didn't think they could fix. So, he just held her, and continued to search for the words that would have the power to save the girl he'd loved since he'd known what love was from her immeasurable pain.

"Peeta?"

"I'm right here," he whispered as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. "I'm right here, Katniss."

"Don't ever go…" she begged as she continued to tremble. "If you go…"

"I'm not going," he promised quietly. "I'm never going."

"Please…don't go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the initial interest in this story! The topic is one that I hold very near to my heart. I feel kindred to Katniss and have drawn a lot of my own experiences into these chapters. You will notice that the first paragraph of this second chapter is the same as the first paragraph in the first chapter...and it was intentional. The feeling she has on this particular day is always the same, her reaction to those feelings are what is different. **

**Enjoy this next installment! I'm still so incredibly nervous about sharing my writing with everyone. All mistakes are my own!**

When the second anniversary of her death is thrust upon her she is absolutely destroyed by the feeling of her heart breaking apart in her chest all over again. The burn inside of her is so extreme that every piece of her feels dead, like her...and every part of her wishes it was actually true. So quickly her breaking point had been reached and slowly every bit of resolve she had managed to build up in the previous 730 days shattered somewhere deep inside of her, in a place she hadn't even known existed prior to that moment…and she knew she would never be whole again. There was no possible way she could be; after all that had happened within the span of those brief terrifying moments she…she didn't want to think about what had happened, but she couldn't help it. It consumed her, defined her…ruined her.

She is up and out of bed before the sun, unable to further withstand that agony that came with her dreams, and though he stirs when she slips from his embrace she doesn't wake him. She just needed…space. Space and an opportunity to get away from everything and everyone that reminded her of what she'd lost. As she wandered aimlessly around their home, her nervous energy being all that propelled her despite her exhaustion, rage bubbled deep in her stomach. Her anger burned through every rational feeling she may have had and she found herself trembling.

It didn't seem fair. She'd been left behind to deal with the mess of emotions that comes with knowing you played a part in the death of your loved one. She wished they'd just killed her, too. That's all she really wanted. To be put out of her misery…to put an end to the pain and suffering she'd been so cruelly forced to endure. Why hadn't they just killed her, too? What did she have to do to make them see…a life without her, was hardly a life at all. Every peaceful moment she'd had in the past two years, with him by her side continuing to love her in spite of her many shortcomings, meant nothing because she couldn't share them with her little sister. Just being in her home drove her beyond the point of sanity. She could hardly stand it.

Bursting out the front door she momentarily relished in the pain that came with walking barefoot on the ground. She welcomed the burn the cold morning air blowing through her thin nightgown brought. If they were forcing her to stay alive she needed that physical pain. Pain to remind her every single day of what she'd lost. Rounding the house she fell to her knees before the primrose bushes he'd planted with a loving hand. She didn't want them, they weren't her sister. Her sister was dead…the bushes should be dead, too. Ignoring the sharp dig of the gravel in her bare knees she dug her hands into the soil, using every ounce of remaining strength she had left to rip the bushes from the ground.

"I don't need this," she muttered to herself, using the back of a dirty hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. With each tug she killed a little bit more of the bushes that had been planted in remembrance of her sister. With each tug the bushes became more and more like her sister…dead, gone, and at her hands. Tossing each and every victim behind her before plunging her hands back into the earth she felt more and more like herself…cold, heartless, a murderer.

"I don't want this…" her voice was louder than before and she cried out with every yank, her rage finally surfacing as her fingers began to bleed. "Just like…Prim. Dead! Die! Leave!"

As the final words fall from her mouth she is realizes she is screaming. Let them hear, let everyone in 12 hear how crazy she'd become. Let them judge her and cast their pity filled eyes on her. She'd given up every piece of herself to give them their freedom, she'd paid the ultimate price, and she didn't care what they thought. She would be Crazy Katniss for the rest of her life, it was time she started living up to the moniker.

"No!" she screamed loudly as strong familiar hands pulled her away from the destruction she was causing.

"Stop Katniss," his voice breaks through her screams as he falls down beside her, effectively covering himself in the dirt she'd pulled from the ground.

"No, let me go," she demanded as she pressed her bleeding hands into his chest and pushed him back before turning back to the mess she'd made.

"Stop it!" he insisted, his hold on her tighter than before.

"Why did you even plant these?" she yelled out to him as she grabs fistfuls of the destroyed bushes and throws them in his direction. "Why did you do this? To torture me? To keep her alive? She's not alive, she's not…she won't ever be again."

"But you are," he reminds her as he grabs her wrists, stilling her trembling hands. "You're alive, Katniss."

"No!" she argued with a shake of her head as she lunges at him, her nails clawing at his chest in an attempt to escape his hold. "Let me go!" she screams.

"No," his voice is stern as he drops her wrists and reaches out to take her face in his hands. "I'm not letting go."

"Why?" she cried out, attempting to force his hands away. "Why can't you just let me die, too?" her anger gives way to sobs as she falls forward, pressing her face into his chest and clawing at his arms with her dirty, wounded, hands. "Please!"

"I can't," his confession is a quiet one as his fingers to get lost in her knotted hair. "I need you."

"Please," she pleaded as she lifts her head, meeting his eyes. "Please let me die. Please, Peeta…let me die."

"Katniss…" his own voice breaks as she continues to plead with him. The worst part of all this is her eyes, once so alive with an internal fire she'd been the face of an uprising, had dulled considerably. Eyes so tired from crying, from existing, that they'd grown sullen and, just by looking into them for a split second, you could tell she'd given up. "I love you too much to let that happen. Let me help you. We help each other, remember? Let me help."

"It hurts to get up," she sobbed gently as she clawed at her face. "If I could just lie down forever I know...I know I would be with her again. Would she want me to stay down, Peeta? What would she want me to do? I need her to tell me what she would want me to do. "

"Shhh…" he whispered stilling her hands. "Let _me_ help you. We can figure out what Prim would have wanted together."

"I hate this day…" her voice breaks as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her against chest. "I feel like nothing will ever be okay again."

"I know," he whispered his understanding as he kissed her face softly. "I wish I could bring her back…maybe if she were here instead of me…"

"No!" she interrupted frantically cupping his face in her hands. "I need you, too. I need you. Please, don't go away…I love you." As the words pass through her lips she presses her mouth to his and he can taste her tears but he relishes in them. As long as she's crying, she's still alive, in his arms. As long as she's crying, there's hope for her…for them.

"I need you, Peeta," she insisted again as her tortured eyes caught his own. "If you go now…if you go now I won't get through this…"

"I'm not going," he breathed as he brushed her hair from her face. "I can't."

"If you go now, I don't have a chance," her hands trembling as she runs them over his chest. "If you go now…if you go…"

"I came back for you," his reminder is a quiet one as he palmed her face in his hands and continued to cover her face with gentle, soothing, kisses. "I love you."

"Look what I did to what you did for her," she choked out sadly as her trembling hands begin picking up the piece of the plants she'd pulled from the ground.

"It's okay," he insisted quietly as he took the flowers from her hands. "We'll replant them. We'll do it together."

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she looked into his eyes. "I don't like being this way. I know she would hate me this way…"

"She would love you no matter what," he argued as he began examining her wounded hands. "Just like I do."

"I don't want to be like this anymore," she breathed as she curled against into his chest. "I don't want to feel anymore."

"It's okay to feel," he declared gently. "It means you're still living."

She nods slightly as he wraps his arms around her, his embrace shielding her from the early morning chill. Still, she trembles uncontrollably and wants nothing more than to disappear into him, where nobody would be able to find her. Everything would be better if she could just disappear and the extreme need to do just that overwhelms her, and scares even her. As his words echo in her ears, and his warm hands rub soothing circles into her back, she can't stop the confession from passing through her quivering lips.

"I don't want to live."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! First, I am _shocked_ to have received so many views and reviews on this story! I honestly believed people would HATE it! Second, I apologize for the length of time between updates! This weekend was my Bachelorette weekend so I've been pretty busy (though I had 75% of this typed up and just needed to finish it). Third, you'll notice that once again the first paragraph is the same as it was in the first chapters...I'm pretty confident saying that will be true for every chapter. Last, please let me know what you think of this chapter (if I should continue or just stop because I am ruining these wonderful characters [which I always fear I am]). I appreciate every one of you that has taken the time to view this story and those who have taken time to review...I'm just shocked and honored, really. Enjoy!**

**As always all mistakes are my own!**

When the third anniversary of her death is thrust upon her she is absolutely destroyed by the feeling of her heart breaking apart in her chest all over again. The burn inside of her is so extreme that every piece of her feels dead, like her...and every part of her wishes it was actually true. So quickly her breaking point had been reached and slowly every bit of resolve she had managed to build up in the previous 1,095 days shattered somewhere deep inside of her, in a place she hadn't even known existed prior to that moment…and she knew she would never be whole again. There was no possible way she could be; after all that had happened within the span of those brief terrifying moments she…she didn't want to think about what had happened, but she couldn't help it. It consumed her, defined her…ruined her.

She rolled over, longing for the comfort of his blue eyes, and frowned when she found his side of their bed empty. Reaching out, she ran the tips of her fingers along his pillow, and relished in the warmth it still possessed. He couldn't have gone far, and he couldn't have been gone for very long. Lifting her head, fighting the exhaustion that told her it was impossible to move, she focused her eyes on the clock on his nightstand. The glow of the neon numbers burned her eyes and uncharacteristic tears blurred her vision when she realized that he'd gotten up with just enough time to shower and get to the bakery. It'd been reopened for months now and everyday he came home and entertained her with the stories of the many District 12 residents that had returned and become his regular customers. She loved those stories, loved seeing him smile, loved seeing him so happy…but today, she just wanted him to stay with her. To get lost in his eyes, his embrace, the very essence of hope his mere presence provided when she thought dealing with the memories of her dead sister were going to kill her.

She needed to bury her face in his chest and scream through the agony. She needed to allow his breath, his touch, his life to put out the fire. She needed him to dull the ache because she knew she _couldn't _on her own. To face the day alone would feel like a death sentence. She didn't trust herself, her brain would rattle off a million different ways that she could end her pain if he wasn't with her…and her heart wouldn't put up much of a fight. She feared him walking in the door and finding her dead on the floor, having succumbed to the alluring pull of peace…of freedom from a pain she knew would never go away. Today, she was broken, and she needed her _husband_ because if she didn't have him she knew he wouldn't have a _wife_ to come home to. And she couldn't leave him that way, in any way, without feeling as if she'd forfeited his love in the cruelest of fashions. He'd sacrificed his body, his mind, his life to protect her…she owed him everything. She couldn't go, especially at her own doing. She wouldn't let herself do that…to him.

She pulled herself upright, gasping at the ache in her chest and the pull of grief, as she focused her eyes on the bathroom door. The water was still running, he was still there, and she still had time. As she pushed herself from bed, her mind screamed at her. _What are you doing? Today is the day to die! To join Prim._ The physically pain the barrage of subconscious comments caused was nearly enough to make her surrender back into the mattress but as she reached their closest she attempted to shake her mind free of the onslaught.

"Okay," she gasped, her own voice sounding unfamiliar to her, as she opened the closet doors and leaned against one for support. Without it there, she would have fallen over, her legs betraying her and the floor seeming more inviting with each passing second she remained upright. "Stop!" she hissed as she reached for the nearest articles of clothing she could find. It wasn't until she'd stumbled back to the bed that she realized she'd grabbed a pair of her pants, but one of his button up shirts.

_The day is a failure. Go back to bed. Die in bed. _

Pulling off her nightgown she tossed it to the side before forcing an arm through the sleeve. She drowned in his clothing but she didn't care. She wanted to celebrate victory today, and the victory was she was up and moving in the first place. And he wouldn't have to save her and they could be like they were every other day of the year…when she was normal, or as close to "normal" as she would ever be. She fumbled with the buttons of the shirt for a few moments before abandoning the task. The shirt was on, that was all that mattered. Turning her attention to her hair she threaded her fingers through it, hoping to tame it somewhat, before using trembling fingers to force it into her standard braid.

"I have to do this," she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes and fought against the memories of years gone by.

Prim had loved playing with her hair. After their Father had died it had become a comfort to her, a constant in a world where their Mother was catatonic and food was scarce. Prim would play with her hair and she would sing, drowning out the growls of their empty stomachs. Half the time her hair had ended up in a tangled mess but she hadn't cared, because it had made Prim smile and she would have walked to the ends of the Earth to make her smile. In her minds eye the image of her sister grew more and more distorted with each passing second, replaced with images of burning skin and dead bodies, and the sound of exploding bombs and tortured screams.

"Katniss…" she nearly pulled all of her hair from her head when his voice broke through the mess of memories her mind had managed to conjure up.

"I can do it," she choked out as her fingers continued to tug at her hair. He got down on his knees before her, his hair still damp from his shower, as he set his hands on her legs.

"What are you doing?" he questioned as he took in the site of his wife, half dressed in one of his shirts and knuckles white as she yanked at her unruly hair.

"I want…I want to come with you to the bakery today," she breathed her reply as her exhausted hands fell into her lap. She didn't know how much longer she could do this, she was already so tired. It was sucking the life right out of her, rendering her incapable of even the simplest of tasks. He managed a small smile as he reached up and stroked the dark circles beneath her eyes with the pads of his thumbs. She was only a shell of herself on this day, half of who she was on days when her mind wasn't betraying her and taking her back to the day she lost _everything_ that had been important to her for so long. Her face pale and eyes void of the stubborn strength that defined her, looking as if it was taking every ounce of sanity and strength she possessed to remain upright in spite of the pain he knew pulsed through her.

"Please," she begged quietly as his eyes focused on her own, her still shaking hands finding his arms and hanging on like they were her only lifeline. "I…I won't be here when you get back if I'm alone. I'm…scared. Please, Peeta."

He considered her for a moment, continuing to gently stroke her face. She was typically so fearless, but the pain that consumed her on this day robbed her of that…and it terrified him. He didn't know what he would do if she ever gave in to all of the horrible things her mind told her she _should_ do. Losing her would mean he'd lost himself. There would be no reason to go on if he didn't have her to look to for the love, life, or hope that she gave him. Even after all of these years, she still had no idea how much of an effect she had on him. There had been a time, not too long before, when she wouldn't (or rather couldn't) ask for his help but that had changed and he was grateful. If she could find the strength to admit her fears, he would have no choice but to give up his own sanity if it meant she found some peace. He would do or be anything that she needed.

"Okay," he nodded his understanding as his hands finally left her face and fell to the still open front of the shirt she'd forced herself into. He smiled at her once again as her hands rested on his own, following him through every movement. "We definitely want to button this up. I'm sure I could find the enjoyment in leaving it open but, so could some of our customers, and we don't want that."

His eyes never left her own as he made fast work of the buttons and straightened the collar before his hands fell into her lap once more. She let out a heavy, exhausted breath as she leaned forward slightly, her forehead resting against his, as he slipped his hands beneath the bottom hem of the shirt and found her thighs. She rested her hands on the back of his head, her fingers threading through his hair, as she nuzzled her nose against his. Inhaling on his every exhalation she bit back on her bottom lip and attempted to stifle a sob.

"Hey…" he whispered as she slipped from the edge off the bed and into his waiting lap.

"I'm so tired," she cried from the sheer exhaustion of it all as she wrapped herself around him.

"I know," he breathed as he enveloped her in his embrace, his hands splayed across her back. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, placing a loving kiss to her temple, as he rocked her back and forth. "We can do this, though, Katniss. We can make this happen together, okay? I promise you."

"Everything hurts, Peeta," she sobbed as she locked her arms around his neck. "Everything inside of me is telling me I _can't_. I hurt everywhere, I see her burning…I see her dying, I feel her dying. My head keeps telling me it's my turn…it's _my turn_ to go, and I want it. If it means that this hurt stops, that I stop burning, I _want _it."

"But the fact that you haven't given in to it means that you don't," he whispered before pulling back and cradling her head in one of his hands. "You are strong, Katniss."

"I _used_ to be," she muttered as she brought a hand to her face and wiped furiously at her still falling tears.

"No, you are," he insisted softly. "You're sitting here, telling me everything you're afraid of. You're trying to keep moving despite all of the pain you feel. And you know that even though nothing would probably feel better than to not feel that pain…that's not what Prim would want. Remember, after last year, that's what we talked about. Prim wouldn't want you to go, it's not your turn, and you're fighting it. That's strong."

"I…need her here," she stated gently.

"I wish I could get her here," he declared as he brushed a piece of hair from her face. "I would in a minute."

She acknowledged his statement with a slight nod before bringing a hand to his face. Lining his lips with the tips of her fingers she stared into his eyes…letting them heal her. _He_ was the strong one. Unwilling, unable, to let her give in to herself…revealing himself as her salvation just before she thought she might die. Pressing her mouth to his, she kissed him gently, hoping that it conveyed even half of the love, admiration, and gratitude she felt for him. She may have been the face of an uprising, but _he _was _her _hero.

She reached for her hair, holding it in a heavy hand for a moment as she searched his face for the strength she needed to keep moving forward. She had to do this, she had to prove to herself that she could get up on this day, knowing that Prim was gone, and move forward with life. She owed herself that. She owed the memory of her sister that. She owed her husband that.

"Don't stop looking at me," she pleaded as she began to move her trembling fingers. His gaze quieted the awful thoughts that relentlessly tried to push themselves to the surface. It kept her from wanting to die. As she tied off her hair with a rubber band she let out another heavy breath and reached for his hands.

"Can you help me finish getting dressed?" she questioned hopefully as she lifted herself back onto the bed. Once out of his embrace the tempting words, the promise of tranquility that comes with death, started picking apart her sanity once more. One last smile spread across his lips as his eyes brightened, glowing with love and admiration, and he nodded his reply while reaching for her pants. It comforted her, made her feel like she could do anything so long as he was by her side. She _would_ do this, only he could help her do it.

"Hurry...we, we don't want to be late opening the bakery…"


End file.
